The Emporia weekly news. [volume] (Emporia, Kan.) 1881-1889, 1887-07-21
THE RAILWAY GHOST.

Westlield is an old, old town, and
the railroad has run through it for
many year, now upon entertainments
which slope to creeks and inlets, now
through narrow cuts with high hills
rising sheer on either side. Day after
day, year after year, the trains go to
and fro, and sometimes reckless way
farers are seen in the brightness of the
midday making their way from West
field to the nearest village, or return
ing, on the railroad track.
But there are few who venture that
way after shutdown. 1t is dangerous,
they say. Many have met their deaths
through folly of this kind. And this
is true. Nevertheless there are those
among them who are thinking of the
Railway Ghost.
1t is the ghost of woman. A dozen
years and more since she died. And
always at dusk that faint, sad wrath
floats to and fro over the shining steel
rails that run down cityward from
Westiield between the high rocks and
beneath the first dark arch of stone; it
is there the white shape floats and
fades and reappears: For it was at
that spot There is a curve
Immediately beyond the bridge, and
breathe, having heard the first dull
roar of the approaching train, ere it
is upon you, leaping and shrieking,
and the carriages dance by ike mad
creatures.
But the pale ghost knows no fear.
1t fingers there as ever. And fourteen
years ago there was no ghost.
Let us turn back fourteen years and
read the story.
1t is morning in June. Morning ia
the great city. The sun shines sweet
", the leaves of ivy and wisteria SHIN
mer in the soft wind, where the thick
vines have hidden sombre brown stone
eXteriors.
Innnumerable aggressive sparrows
compete, carriages clatter through the
close-built cross-streets occasionally,
and hand-organ somewhere is meas
uring off yard-lengths of The Little
Duke"
Two people hear the tune rs they
stand smiling in each others eyes.
They stand near the window in the
drawing-room of one of those fine
brown stone, wisteria-mantled man
sions. The window is opened a little,
and the tune comes up in blithe STAG
CdlO, ono dtHAOSt HtttlS iHt MOJsiS.
See how his face he covers,
He was the prince OF lovers.
The two people stand smiling a lit
tie longer; then the man turns from
the woman.
Al must go" he says. Everything
is prepared. You will not fail at the
last moment? You will not be afraid?"
He is tall, and dark, and large
framed; she is slight. and fair, and
petite.
She looks at him with great shining
eyes of azure.
"Oh no." she says; II will not fail.
/ am a woman"
Then Gu reUoir,." he says. cat three.
I will meet the cabiat the station"
Goodbye" she says, and watches
him go out and down the sunny street.
HE was the prince of lovers"-the
hand-organ filings it at her from the
distance. And she huns the tune as
she goes about her task. Her task is
great, yet little. Only to write a let
ter-the briefer the better. All else
is complete. Her traveling-bag is
packed. She is ready to go-tO leave
all-for him whom she loves.
The letter is brief. She writes il
without a tear or pang.
OCOA IL
for ever. Do not seek me. / have
never loved you. No one is to blame.
was never happy as your wife. F"
As the clock strikes the half-hour
before three, she places the letter
where it shall easily be found, and
goes out into the sunshine-goes out
from her husbands home for ever.
The lovers travel far away; they
| Journey unmolested, even by con-
science. The woman is happy in her
choice. They have no wealth COM
pared with that once hers. But they
have each other.
Months slip by. They rarely speak
of the past. But at length she says to
him one day:
George could not have cared much.
He will soon cut the legal knot. And
we can be married, can't we, Francis?'
YES" he answers carelessly.
Other months ship by. The lovers
! care to rest there. 1t is another June.
more sultry and like midsummer.
1--WE viii go to some near town
some quiet waterside place" he de
cides. And she agrees with him. He
Will re-enter business in the city; he i
tired of idIeness, he says.
| 1t is in the old town Of Westfieid
/ that they chance to find that which
they seek. A house upon a hillside,
looking one way down upon the dis
tant railroad and one way down upon
the green sea water.
1t Is q pretty house when all is fixed
/ and fitted. But It is lonesome-very
lonesome for the woman who is left sc
much alone, while he is absent in the
city. Left all alone with only a ser
want and the summer wind Il
speak to her And so, if she grows
pale and gloomy, and ceases to smile
when he comes home, what wonderi
And he, too, seems to have changed
There is a shadow growing up be
tween them. Faint and vague, yet
ever present. Ever present in the